


Douchifer

by Vertolina



Series: Even The Devil Needs A Friend [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Bromance, Brotp, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hand Feeding, Not Beta Read, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 11:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10162208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vertolina/pseuds/Vertolina
Summary: Dan approaches Lucifer with request that is NOT what the Devil expected.Set in a beautiful world where Lucifer never left. Just pretend the last couple of episodes never happened.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, when I started this fic I had a slightly different idea. Perhaps it was a bit funnier and definitely sexier but nonetheless I like the way it turned out.   
> I just have a lot of feelings about the friendship between Lucifer and Dan.  
> I'm sorry for the mistakes you will most certainly find.   
> All comments are welcome!

“Hello, detective Douche!”

Lucifer’s cheerful greeting achieved the desirable effect as Dan rolled his eyes in utter annoyance.

“Hello to you, too, Dick!”

Lucifer grinned at the other man and leaned to pat him playfully on the back before proceeding to sit on Chloe’s chair. He never bothered to delve into the reason _why_ but he genuinely enjoyed the occasional exchange of offences with Dan. It had become their _thing_ … sort of. The fallen angel had no doubt that the detective wholeheartedly despised the nickname he had given him. That was actually part of the fun: watching the man’s either totally unimpressed or absolutely pissed off face as he gave him the ultimate _“Are you for real?!”_ look. But it wasn’t just the sheer pleasure of dancing on Dan’s quite delicate nerves that encouraged Lucifer to keep playing that game. In his head the term “douche” had shaped and turned into a name of endearment and deep down the Devil was sure he would most certainly break the ribs of anyone who dared to use it as an _actual insult_ to his friend.

 _No one calls my douche “a douche”!_ The thought made Lucifer chuckle under his breath. The utter boredom he was currently experiencing was clearly causing funny side effects to his brain. Chloe was at the Lieutenant’s office to explain how _exactly_ all _three_ suspects they interrogated the previous day had suffered a major mental breakdown after spending just a couple of minutes alone with her partner. Not that his detective could actually give any proper explanation to that phenomenon but she made it clear that she was going to “handle it” and Lucifer was to “stay out of it” in order to avoid causing “any further problems”. So for now he was stuck at the precinct with absolutely nothing to do (or more accurately with absolutely nothing _Chloe would approve of_ to do). As if it was _his_ fault that the guys were total jerks and practically begged him for a crash-course in why pissing off the Devil is a bad, bad idea. He felt a fiery ball of frustration quickly building up in his chest and was just about to get up on his feed and rush straight to Olivia’s fancy little office to give her a piece of his mind when something else caught his attention.

It was Dan. He was standing three feet away, staring directly at Lucifer with something that strangely resembled _insecurity_ in his eyes. Now _that_ was a sight to behold. The detective was biting his bottom lip like some nervous teenage girl and was making a quite obvious effort to will his legs into moving forward. His whole demeanor was so utterly hilarious that Lucifer felt how all of his previous frustration was being replaced by an equally overwhelming wave of amusement. However, he did have the better judgment to contain his laughter. Whatever inner struggle the poor chap was having, might be resolved rather quickly if Lucifer pushed him away with his actions and the Devil knew that all too well. He kept a negligent posture, casually leaning back in the chair and crossed his legs as if he was preparing to spend the entire day in that position. Only the mischievous glow in his eyes was giving away his excitement but the other man didn’t seem to notice. Apparently, the Devil’s _decent_ behavior indeed _did_ help Dan’s thought process because a moment later he somehow managed to make the few steps separating him from his ex-wife’s desk.

“Hey, man!”

“Daniel.”

“Look, man, I…uh… I…”

From the looks of it Dan was talking to Chloe’s computer, the folders piled on her desk, the nearest wall or Lucifer’s shoes but definitely not to Lucifer himself. A sly smile curved the Devil’s lips. He was familiar with the lost expression on the detective’s face. Countless people had worn it before him. Dan _wanted_ something. It took Lucifer’s entire force of will to restrain from making some mocking remark or just bluntly laugh in his face. _No, that could ruin the whole deal._ And the idea of having _Daniel Espinoza_ , of all people, owe him a favor held a strange, yet powerful appeal over him. Not that he would _actually_ make him return it. But the opportunity to tease and further test the limits of the man’s patience was… positively _thrilling_.    
_Not yet!_ He shushed the naughty thoughts in his head and tried his best to give the features of his face a reassuring and friendly expression.

“What is it, my dear Daniel?” his voice was deep but gentle, the same one he used to seduce those wonderful members of the human race who were a tad more… complicated.

Finally, Dan lifted up his gaze to meet Lucifer’s eyes and made an attempt to verbalize his request.

“Um, the thing is… I just wanted to… You can say “no”, of course… ”

At this point of the conversation, had it been with any other person, Lucifer would have already taken his clothes off in order to spare the poor creature the humiliation of having to beg for sex. However, it was _Daniel_ standing in front of him and as much as he really wouldn’t mind getting to _know_ the detective a little better, he highly doubted that _that_ was the favor he was about to ask him for. Furthermore, something in the man’s posture had changed and now he seemed… defensive. Like a cornered animal. Or perhaps he was bracing himself for rejection.

“I highly doubt you can think of something the Devil would shy away from doing, Dan.”

The detective didn’t seem to hear him or simply decided to ignore his words.

“Yeah, forget it! That was a stupid idea.”

“Come now, Daniel! Don’t be shy! Tell the good old Devil what is it you desire.”

“Des… No, man! I don’t want anything from you!”

“Oh…” the disappointment was so noticeable in Lucifer’s voice it was almost pathetic, but at that moment he just felt so… robbed. “What is it then?”

“Ok, uh…” Dan took a deep breath and suddenly his eyes warmed up with excitement. “You know how much Trixie _loves_ chocolate and all kinds of sweets, right?”

“Right.”

“So when I had her over for the weekend, she came up with the idea of becoming a chef. Meaning she wanted us to make all sorts of candies… as a practice for her future career.” Dan chuckled and for a moment his gaze drifted away as he relived the fond memory.

 _“_ Right. Well, I would expect nothing less from the little minx.”

 _“_ Yeah, well, it went a little out of control. I’m not sure how it happened but we ended up with about two hundred different sweets.” A mischievous smile curled up the detective’s lips and for a second he looked twenty years younger.

 _“_ So you spent all of your free time baking with your spawn.” Lucifer couldn’t figure out why he was being told this story of parental misfortune. _“_ How positively… _mawkish_.”

“Ok, spare me the witty remarks, man!”

“No, I mean, I’m sure your offspring had fun. You’re a good dad, Dan.” For a brief moment the words lingered in the space between the two men, awkwardly sincere and uncomfortably intimate. “I mean, despite the fact that you’re otherwise a full-functioning douche, of course.”

“Of course.” The detective rolled his eyes but this time without the usual attitude. _“_ Look, that was… Well, it was a big day for me and Trixie. You know, spending some quality time together, bonding… trying something new. And making those candies was actually quite fun. We were both very…uh… proud of the… um…of the outcome. I mean, they taste _heavenly_.”

“I see.” Lucifer was still struggling to understand where this whole conversation was headed. Finally, he came to the conclusion that Dan simply wanted to brag a little. “Well, I’m glad you two had a good time.”

“Yeah, uh… I mean… uh…” and, just like that, his gift of the gab hit rock bottom again.

“Bloody hell, spit it out, Daniel!”

“Yeah… Yes… Uh… Would you like to have some?”

“Huh?” For the first time in his remarkably long existence Lucifer was convinced his hearing had failed him. “Have some what?”

“Like I said, we made _a lot_. More than we could eat by ourselves. Trixie brought some to Chloe and Maze but I still have plenty left.”

With two big steps the detective went to his desk, picked a box from the top drawer and shook it in Lucifer’s direction. Before the fallen angel could assimilate the situation, the man had returned to him with a shy smile on his lips and the plastic container in his hands.

 _“_ So… you want some?”

“Yes, of course. Sure.”

Somewhere in the background of his mind Lucifer tried to recall all the times someone had expressed desire to _share_ something with him; something _not_ revolving around sex; a sweet and innocent, and almost silly piece of the joy of their human existence.

He remembered Delilah’s beautiful but husky voice. She used to sing for him the fragments of the songs that she never had the patience to write down and turn into an actual musical composition. He used to believe that she cared about his opinion and trusted the advices he gave her. But that was _before_ … Before she became a star and left to pursue her dream, before her soul abandoned her young body through the bullet holes in her chest.

He recalled Chloe’s serene eyes and the smile she wore that blissful morning she made him a sandwich. He couldn’t explain it but he knew he would carry with him and cherish the memory of that simple breakfast for the rest of his days. Perhaps because, unlike so many things in his life, it was genuine; because someone good and honest had shown him care and affection without any ulterior motive, without expecting anything in return.

And that just about covered the list of the _truly intimate_ shared moments he had had since coming to earth.

People tended to see the wealthy club owner, the playboy, the man with connections and ability to open the doors to success and earthly pleasure for them. They came, eager to have a taste of him and what he had to offer, and then left just as quickly and without a trace. They hid many desires in their hearts but never yearned to share something _more_ than what the Devil was tempting them to.

And then there was Daniel. The man he was almost _forced_ to get to know better, to understand his struggle and, somewhat unwillingly, began to like. Lucifer even had the audacity to call him his friend even though deep down he knew that Dan’s reluctance to kill him was in no way equivalent to an actual friendship. And yet, there he was, standing before him, offering him a taste of something he had created with his own hands.

The fallen angel was just about to reach out for the box the detective was holding when Dan made a sudden step back.

“There’s a catch, though. See, Trixie and I followed the recipes word by word but… I mean, they taste really good, I swear! It’s just that all of the sweets we made turned out quite… ugly. ”

“Noted.” Lucifer chuckled at Dan’s bashful expression. “I won’t judge the representation.”

“No, man, you don’t get it. They look… repulsive. Like, Trixie was on the verge of crying when she saw the very first lot we took out of the oven. But they taste good, I promise. _Delicious._ Just at first it’s best to, you know… not look at them.”

“Oh.” Lucifer sincerely doubted that whatever candies Dan and his spawn had created could actually _repulse_ someone coming from Hell but if it really meant that much for him. “Right. Ok. Throw ‘em in here!”

Dan stared in disbelief as the guy in front of him leaned forward, closed his eyes and opened his mouth. At that moment the club owner bore an odd resemblance to a gigantic baby bird demanding its snack. The detective intended to ask Lucifer to simply take a candy and eat it without actually looking at it. Which was a rather bold request to be made in a police precinct. His supposedly best friend Marc had laughed at him thinking Dan was trying to prank him and the guys he played poker with every once in a while had stared awkwardly at him for a whole minute until he had finally opened the box… and then they also had laughed... a lot. Ella was the only one who had had enough faith in his good intentions. She had blindly grabbed a big sticky cookie and stuffed it in her mouth without even taking time to give it a sniff and Dan had considered that to be an extremely kind gesture.

However, Lucifer’s reaction was the one the detective had been most worried about. His ex-wife’s partner was inclined to mock him whenever an opportunity occurred. And even though he had gotten somehow used to the guy’s not-so-funny remarks, he still feared that he would end up at the wrong side of the Devil’s witty sense of humor. And yet, he and Lucifer were beginning to build _something_ … a relationship based on mutual understanding and acceptance and he wanted to share that small, but significant in the plan of his own life, moment with him. But actually _hand-feed_ him?!

“Everything all right, Dan?” Lucifer closed his mouth without opening his eyes. There was something almost _innocent_ in his expression at that moment. The club owner sighed and pouted, sensing he was about to be deprived of candy. It was ridiculous how this utterly inappropriate and occasionally despicably annoying man could now remind Dan of his own child.

“Uh, yeah, man. All good. Just…” he was about to take his hand, guide it to the box and ask him to pick a cookie by himself but before he had the chance to do that Lucifer presented his widely open mouth to him, glowing with happiness. “So you want me to…” the detective finally made up his mind. “Ok. Uhhh… You don’t have any allergies, do you?”

Lucifer grunted loudly in response and Dan rolled his eyes. _Of course_ , the _Devil_ would _not_ be a subject to a mere _human_ weakness.

“Ok, you like strawberries, yeah?”

Lucifer nodded and the detective took a small strawberry-filled cookie from the box. This kind was his personal favorite but the thing in his hand bore such a strong resemblance to an enormous raging pimple that he hesitated for a moment before proceeding to carefully put it between Lucifer’s jaws. Dan watched with nervous anticipation as the other man’s expression changed from surprise to utter _delight_.

“More?”

“Yeah!”

This time the detective chose an extra sweet chocolate candy and Lucifer gave out an appreciative groan that was a bit too loud and not at all appropriate.

“Shhhh. Keep it down, man! You know we’re still at the freakin'  _precinct_ , right?” Dan looked around expecting to meet the mocking stares of his colleagues but no one seemed to be paying attention to their feeding session. Apparently, the same people who had spent an entire week discussing whether or not the reason for Anthony from HR to shave his magnificent beard was a mysterious new love interest, now could not be bothered to even _notice_ that detective Espinoza was stuffing the mouth of his ex-wife’s new partner with home-made cookies.

“Is there more?” Lucifer’s voice was hopeful and boyish and Dan couldn’t help but chuckle at the sound of it.

“Plenty.”

Ten minutes later the box was empty and Lucifer had leaned back in the chair gently stroking his belly with satisfaction, his eyes still shut.

“Ok, I need to get back to work now.”

The detective made a step toward his own desk but the other man stopped him, grabbing his forearm.

“Dan… Do you consider me your friend?”

“Uh, I…” that probably wasn’t the term he would have used but there was something in Lucifer’s eyes, something sad and vulnerable that helped him look past the petty grievances they'd had in the earlier days of their acquaintance. “Yeah, man, we’re friends.”

With sincere smile on his lips he returned to the report awaiting him on his desk, blissfully oblivious to the Devil’s solemn promise to one day, if necessary, wage a war against God Himself to ensure a place for his tiny human soul in Heaven. 


End file.
